


Little Death

by classichysteria



Category: You Me At Six
Genre: Little Death by You Me At Six, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:58:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classichysteria/pseuds/classichysteria
Summary: I feel lonely whenYou disown me, my friendsYou say you used to know me thenNow my body's under arrest.





	Little Death

**Author's Note:**

> Mild references to a character having had suicidal thoughts in the past.  
> Based on “Little Death” by You Me At Six.

“He can’t just do this. If he knew who I fucking was he wouldn’t do this, he was the one who saved my fucking life. Without Daniel David fucking Flint I wouldn’t be here. He can’t just leave me. Or us.” Josh almost cried to three of his band mates.  
“Josh you don’t understand anything about this. You’re victimising yourself.” Matt said, knowing he was just saying this to make himself feel better.  
“You don’t either! You have to see where he’s coming from! His best friend! The one that saved his fucking life is abandoning him!” Chris yelled.  
“Brave of you to assume he’s my friend.” Josh stated.  
“Josh, he’s your friend, you’d literally die for him. Shut up.” Max added, walking through the door, he had been with Dan for a bit considering he was trying to leave the band and didn’t want to talk to anyone (but Max because no one says no to Max Helyer without dying of guilt afterwards) and would need some comforting. “Also, you have to go through there.”  
“Why?” He said, angrily.  
“Dan wants you.”  
“Why?”  
“Because he trusts you over anyone else here. He needs you mate, he’s your best friend. Go talk to him.”  
“Max, he fucking hates me.” Josh cried.  
“Shut up. You’re a fucking idiot, go talk to Dan, if things go bad, you can slap me. If not, you owe me a beer.”  
Josh got up from the deck chair he was sat on on the porch and walked to the living room of the “writing cabin” the boys had rented for the writing of Sinners Never Sleep, Dan was sobbing, of course, on the sofa.  
Josh sat down next to him, Dan looked up, “Can we go home.” He mumbled, it was less of a question and more of a statement.  
“Dan, we’re in the middle of fucking Los Angeles. Weybridge is literally half a day away.”  
“Can we go home, please, Jay, please. Can we at least go somewhere I want.”

Five minutes later Josh came running back onto the porch, “Pack your bags. We’re going home.”


End file.
